


Come back, brother

by Ingi



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Community: norsekink, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Letters, M/M, Possible smut, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-15
Updated: 2014-01-15
Packaged: 2018-01-08 21:01:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1137354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ingi/pseuds/Ingi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from <strong><a href="http://norsekink.livejournal.com/9985.html?thread=20956161#t20956161">norsekink</a></strong>, requested by an anon who seems to read my mind:<br/><em>“After Loki's fall from the Bifrost, Thor writes him a letter every day. One day after Loki has been brought back to Asgard, he finds the letters.”</em></p>
<p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
<p>  <em>"Brother.</em></p>
<p>  <em>Yes, I call you brother, because now you’re not here to reject the treatment. You are my brother. Always were and always will.</em><br/><em>Father told me what happened, brother. I know what you are, and I don’t care.</em><br/><em>Honestly, brother, I don’t even know why I am writing this. No, forget that bit. I know why.</em></p>
<p>  <em>Today, I saw you fall."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Come back, brother

‘He shall be imprisoned’, had been Odin’s words.

Loki knew that for sure because, even if he had shown no expression except for disgust and derision during the whole talk, he was actually alerted for each word.

And yet, that damn fool who called himself ‘brother’ of his hadn’t allowed it. He had contradicted Odin and insisted in he shouldn’t be imprisoned, but be allowed to stay in his own old chambers (under his watchful eye, of course), until the one-eyed gave up and fulfilled the wishes of his firstborn, like he had always done.

And that was why a fettered traitor was walking by the corridors of the golden palace with Thor at his side.

“Stop looking at me like that” he spitted, his gaze on the spot right before him.

“You are not even looking at me” was the calm response.

“I can tell you’re staring. Unlike you, I’m not stupid.”

He got no reply to that. He was not expecting it anyway. It was just Loki was sick of Thor looking at him like a beaten puppy, as if he were the one who was fettered and humiliated, as if he were the stolen relic, the… Jotun.  
He might be suffering too, Loki couldn’t deny it, since he had always been a sentimental fool, but compared to _his_ suffer, it was nothing. That stupid oaf had no idea of what he had been through, and he would never have.

The Trickster automatically stopped in front of his chambers, and deigned to give his brother a quick annoyed glare. “What are you waiting for?”

“That was exactly what I was going to ask you.”

And then, there was it again. That tired-‘till-death look. Loki couldn’t even almost remember the times in which those blue eyes glimmered with joy… _Stop. Now._ The filter he had in his thoughts to block memories which were not linked to hate had failed again.  
 _Coronation. Jotun. Not the Allfather’s son. Jotun. Not Frigga’s son. Jotun. …Not Thor’s brother. Jotun. The mortal. Bifrost. Jotun. Jotun. The Void. Thanos. Chiataru. Jotun. Midgard. The Avengers. Jotun. Jotun. Jotun. ‘When I’m king, I'll hunt the monsters down and slay them all!’. Jotun!  
_ There. Hate running through his veins again. No reason to panic. _You can’t hurt me anymore…_ he thought, looking venomously at Thor. …He was the God of Lies, after all.

“…Loki?”

And that bastard had the guts to seem worried.

“Stop pretending that you care and put these off!” was the bitter response, as he extended his chained arms to him.

Thor’s eyes got darker.

“What make you think I will free you?”

“Because otherwise, I won’t be able to open the door” Loki hissed harshly. “Even a stupid fool like you should be able to understand that.”

“You don’t have to open the door. I’ll do it for you.” He was looking at him suspiciously.

“Not a chance, _brother_.” He made sure to make that word venomous, and was pleased with himself when he saw the grimace in the Thunderer’s face. “You can continue your surveillance later. But now I want to get comfortable, and it doesn’t involve you at all.”

Thor stared at him for some seconds with a surprisingly unreadable expression, before taking a little key hanging on a golden string, and an unexpected glimpse of pain blew on Loki’s chest when he recognized an amulet hanging on the same string, an amulet he had made himself for him a really long time ago.  
But that sentiment was soon gone, and Loki smirked mockingly as his brother opened his chains without saying a single word.

The Trickster took a second examining his free wrists (except for the silver bracelets which prevented him from using magic), and then folded his arms, raising an eyebrow towards him “You’re not welcomed here.” _Neither I am._

There was a pause, a struggle of glances and wills.

“Don’t even try running away” was Thor final warning, before turning around and slowly walking away, in the unmistakable way to the sparring hall, probably to get rid of his rage. _Oh, yes,_ brother _, a victory for me._

When Loki finally opened the door and carefully took a step forward, he was stunned to discover his chambers hadn’t been touched. They were just like he left them, impeccable. Only the sheets of his bed were different; he wondered who could have changed them. _Maybe Moth- Frigga._

He closed the door behind him and walked over the bed. He couldn’t help it but affectionately caressed the familiar fabric of the sheets, under which he had slept many nights of his youth.  
And then, he noticed it.

The smell. That awfully familiar smell, like steel and iron and gold, and maybe even blood… And much more. Ozone. Rain. Power. Warmness. …Love. _Thunder_.  
Thor’s scent all over his sheets. No, wait.

Loki sat slowly on the bed, as if it could bite him, and leant to smell it. The mattress. The covers. The pillow. The sheets again.

_Thor’s scent all over his bed._

To his regret, he lied face down on the bed, burying his nose on everywhere he could reach, his arms hanging at the sides of the bed and then wrapping around it, as if he were imagining to embrace his brother.

He didn’t have time to notice and reproach himself that weak moment, because his hands suddenly touched something under the bed.  
Full of curiosity, since he remembered well he had nothing hidden there, he leant to the side of the bed and extended his hand until he could grab the object, which ended being a bag.

Loki pulled it out and left it on the bed, incorporating to sit facing it. Yes, it was definitely a leather bag. And it was somehow familiar to him… Although he was definitely not the one who had put it there.  
He frowned at the mystery in front of him, but finally opened the bag, to find… letters. Lots and lots of letters, an unknown but surely huge amount of letters, all neat and tidy and carefully organized. Some of them seemed to be really long, lots of folded parchments, but he was sure some of them wouldn’t even fill a whole one.

Finally, curiosity overcame him. He took the one marked as the first one and unfolded it.

It was Thor’s handwriting. _What in the Nine…?_

 

_“Brother._

_Yes, I call you brother, because now you’re not here to reject the treatment. You_ are _my brother. Always were and always will._  
Father told me what happened, brother. I know what you are, and I don’t care.  
But if I calling you brother bothers you that much, like when I used to call mistletoe to that strange plant with red fruits and you got annoyed, because you said it was not and wanted me to use the right appellation, I shall explain you something. The word brother has lost his true meaning a long time ago.  
I say brother like I say storm. There are many kinds of storm, many hues which almost nobody except me can see, neither understand. That’s why I simply say storm. The same happens when I call you brother, Loki, because we were not only raised together, but I also loved you in ways that you could never imagine. I say brother and I mean friend, mate, love, companion, breath of life! So many things, I cannot even say! But brother is simpler, and it’s just one word.

_Honestly,_ brother _, I don’t even know why I am writing this. No, forget that bit. I know why._

_Today, I saw you fall._

_I didn’t think you would slip through my fingers the way you did. You were there, hanging; not even looking at me, but I didn’t care that much as long as you were safe. But a second after, you let yourself fall._

_If you only knew what I felt, Loki. If you only knew. Perhaps if you had known, and still cared about me, you wouldn’t have let yourself fall.  
It shattered me into pieces. Even now I am writing this, your fall is everything I see, and the words I wrote before, ‘_ Today, I saw you fall’ _, only make it even more painful, because they make me believe what happened was real, and not only a terrible nightmare._

_That’s why I’m writing to you today, brother. I want you to know I still love you, no matter what you did and attempted to do. And maybe, this way, I will be able to sleep peacefully this night._

_Thor.”_

_2\. “Brother._

_Yesterday, I was wrong. I couldn’t sleep at night, not only not peacefully, but simply nothing at all._

_I just wanted you to know. I still feel guilty for what happened. I know it was partly my fault; I was not the best brother in the world. But I tried._

_Thor.”_

_7\. “Brother._

_I know you are not dead. You cannot be dead. I know that, if you were, I would feel it, I’m sure of that. There’s no endless pain, as I think it would be; all I feel is a devastating emptiness. It’s not good, because it hurts, but it’s not that bad, because that means you are alive._

_Today, I asked Heimdall if he could see you. He said he couldn’t._  
But I won’t lose hope, brother. I know you have your ways of hiding when you don’t want to be found, even from Heimdall. Although I wish you would show yourself to me.  
Then I asked him about Jane, the mortal who helped me when I was banished; he said she was alright, but I didn’t feel better at all.

_Because you’re still not here._

_Thor.”_

_15\. “Brother._

_I’ve noticed I feel more inspired while writing to you if I’m in your chambers while I do so. I discovered it a few days ago, when I got into your chambers, like I do every day twice or more since you fell._

_I know I should have told you, but I somehow I was afraid you would be mad at me. You never liked me getting into your chambers. But don’t worry, I didn’t touch anything. …Nobody has. They are exactly how you left them, Mother and I made it sure.  
Yes, sometimes, she also goes to them, for the same reason I do: to feel near you, to remember you like you were before, without madness and hate in those green eyes of yours. We can feel your presence there, brother, I mean in your chambers. It’s a really warm feeling; it surrounds us like a blanket. Like that red one we used to have when we were children, do you remember?_

_Like I was saying, I got into your chambers a few days ago, I wandered around and I sat on your bed. ‘Sentimental fool’, I think I can hear you saying right now. But you know I can’t change the way I am, and there was a time I thought you didn’t want me to. Now, I am not sure.  
Suddenly, I felt the urge of writing to you. So I borrowed a papyrus and a feather from your desk and started writing. And I wrote better, as if your spirit were right at my side, whispering everything in my ear, like you did sometimes when you got sick of me begging you to help me with our homework. You know I’m not a poet at all, brother, but that day, sat on your bed and surrounded by your invisible presence, I felt like one._

_Now I write all the letters in your chambers, I hope you don’t mind. I’ll keep them there too, but don’t worry, I’ll make sure to organize him properly; I know you hate messes._

_Thor.”_

_29\. “Loki._

_How could you. How could you do all you did, how could you betrayed Asgard, how could you betray_ me _!! I always gave you everything you wanted, I tried so hard to make you happy, and yet you betrayed me!! And not happy with that, you tried to kill me!! How could you, how could you, how could you!!_

_Not so long ago, you told me you were not who I think you were. Maybe you were right._

_Thor.”_

_42\. “Brother._

_Pardon me. Pardon me for all the letters I wrote before. I didn’t really mean what I said._

_I wanted to bury them and forget I’d even written them, but then I thought I wouldn’t have been able to take back my words if that had been a discussion between us, and that the right thing would had been apologizing. So I didn’t bury them. Besides, they are yours; I lost the right to do such a thing since the very moment I finished writing them._

_I was wrong, brother, as usual. Everybody makes mistakes, and if even yours were worse than the average, it’s understandable, since what you’ve been through hasn’t been easy; that, I’m sure. Pardon me for thinking otherwise._

_But brother, you must understand me too: I had to get rid of my anger and hurt, and that was the only way. I tried before with other things, I swear: I tried sparring merciless until I was almost dead of fatigue, I tried yelling at the walls. But nothing worked, because I had to do this, I had to talk to you, and this was the only way._

_I still love you, brother. Always did and always will._

_Thor.”_

_72\. “Brother._

_You must know, my routine hasn’t changed since you fell. Except for some little things, for example, now, when I go to see Heimdall and ask him about you, I never have to say anything. I only have to look at him, to see him shake his head in response.  
Then, I sit on the edge of the Bifrost and look down, I don’t even know why; sometimes, I remember your fall, sometimes, I look for you, as if I could see something Heimdall couldn’t. I never know for how long I am there, but when I get up, before I return to the palace, he shows me how Jane is doing. She is well, if you want to know. I think she misses me. I miss her too, but I miss you more._

_Thor.”_

_102\. “Brother._

_I talked with Mother today. She told me she cries rivers every night. I already knew that, because she wastes no effort in hiding it._

_I told her I’ve only cried for you once, the day you fell; I thought that meant the wound was not that deep and might be healing. But she looked at me with the same sadness as always since you fell, and told me I was utterly wrong._

_I’m not healing, brother; I’m just not strong enough to cry. I can’t, I’m all empty and dead. Since your fall. Because I love you more than she does, more than everyone does._

_It’s sad to know, but also reassuring, someway._

_Thor.”_

_201\. “Brother._

_Come back, please. I need you. Come back, brother, Loki, come back, my dearest. Come back._

Please _. I love you, Loki, I need you. Come back._

_Thor.”_

_327\. “Brother._

_I can’t stand it anymore. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, you know that, right? Please, come back._

_I’ll tell you something, brother, something I haven’t almost been able to admit to myself. I love you. I love you_ too much _. I always did, you know?_

_I could have spent hours, days, months, millenniums! Looking at you, just looking at you._  
At that perfect silky black hair, brother, and the way a strand of hair always found its way to get rid of your perfect combed mass and get into your way; then, I would be allowed to brush it away, or maybe I never was, but I did it anyway, and I loved how you didn’t seem to mind at all.  
Everything about you is perfect, Loki. But maybe, just maybe, I love your eyes the most. Those painfully beautiful bright green eyes of yours, almost the only way for me to see what was in your mind.

_Don’t ask me since when I was in love with you, because I couldn’t tell. Probably, since always. It’s just… I hadn’t noticed it before._

_I’m sorry, brother, for the trouble this confession might cause you. But it wouldn’t be right to hide this from you anymore. This was the only secret I kept for myself, Loki, and now is yours… just like me._

_I love you, not in a way a brother should. But we are not brothers, are we? …I never thought that would sound like hope to me one day._

_Come back, Loki, come back to me. I’ll take whatever it comes, if is my brother who comes back or… my love. I don’t care. I just want you back, Loki._

_Thor.”_

_342\. “Brother._

_You haven’t come back, brother. I miss you, I miss you so much. I feel like I can’t breathe, brother, I can’t breathe and it’s all your fault, because you’re inlaid in my chest and you don’t let me breathe._

_Come back. Come back. Come back._

_Come back or let me die, brother, but don’t let me be like this, in a tightrope, not allowed to fall neither to step on the ground, condemned to that unsupportable pain for life. If you love me, brother, if you ever did, save me._

_Come back._

_Thor.”_

_369\. “Brother._

_I must be brief._

_Heimdall saw you, today. He said you were hurting the mortals, brother, and Odin said you were mad and needed to be imprisoned. But I don’t care; I love you, and you’re alive, and that’s everything that matters._

_I’m coming for you, brother._

_Thor.”_

Loki spent hours reading all of them, the three hundred and sixty nine, ignoring the knocks on his door and the noises of his stomach. But there was something he couldn’t ignore, and it was written right in front of him… and also painfully inlaid in his chest.

When, many hours later, Thor finally burst into the room, clearly not going to allow him his time alone for any longer, the trays of food untouched on the threshold, he found a scene he never thought he would find.

Loki, kneeled on the bed, his pale hands in fists… and surrounded by letters.  
Dozens, thousands of unfolded letters, in piles all around him. Tears in almost each one, and not only Thor’s, which dried long ago, but fresh shining ones, permeating the parchment. Shaky, tremulous writing in many paragraphs. It could even be clearly seen one of them, which only had a huge single word in capitals, a cry of ink and tears: _‘ **WHY?** ’_ Thor could remember it well: it was the two hundred thirty-second; desperation had already overcome him by then.  
But that was not the worst. When Loki looked up at him, Thor could see he was biting his lips until they bled, he could see the desperate look in his face… and the tears. Tears all over his face, dried and fresh ones, and still running through his cheeks.

And he quickly understood the Trickster was not looking at him, but at a younger and lonelier Thor, a shattered one… who was not that different from himself right then.

Loki finally found himself able to look at the Thor right in front of him, the one which his face pale, and he suddenly understood he had never aimed him to read those letters, even if they were for him. He opened his mouth as if he were about to say something, but for first time in millenniums, Silvertongue had no words. His bloody lips trembled in a silent plea, one which the Thunderer interpreted at the very first moment he saw.

Thor closed the door behind him and slowly walked over him, his movements softer and more careful he had ever seen in him, as if he were afraid he would vanish if he acted without care. But Loki wasn’t going to disappear anytime soon, and when his brother brushed the letters away to kneel right in front of him, he didn’t move. But when he slowly drove a hand to brush a strand of dark hair away from his face, he couldn’t help it but grip his wrist desperately. _Don’t go_ , his eyes were saying. _Don’t go._ Because, for first time in his life, he finally understood what real pain was like. And that and letting Thor go, were synonyms.

Loki gave him a longing gaze. Thor let his hand fall to his lap, with Loki’s entangled in his wrist, and looking down, moved his own to slowly tangle their fingers, hearing a broken sigh escaping his brother’s lips, which made him look up at him again. And when their eyes met, the Trickster let out a strangled sob and threw himself to him, wrapping his arms around his bigger frame.  
Thor didn’t hesitate, not even for a second, and embraced him tightly, letting him cry against his chest and not caring at all if his brother’s sobs wet his clothes.

“Brother…” he whispered softly, just when he felt the Trickster was not crying anymore.

But Loki had read that word too much in the letters, and its mere mention made his heart hurt. “Shut up” he mumbled against his chest. “Just shut up.”

They were silent for some moments more, but it didn’t take long until Thor spoke again. “Loki…” The so-called pulled away slightly to look at him with a frown, and only then the Thunderer noticed he was still crying quietly, because tears hadn’t stopped running through his pale cheeks. He affectionately wiped them away, and Loki’s frown relaxed. “You read them” Thor said. “You read them all, didn’t you? Some of them…” he started, but ended shaking his head, not feeling like continuing. But he knew there was no need to, because Loki knew exactly which ones he was talking about.

“I did” the Trickster took a deep breath, his hands fisting in his brother’s clothes.

Thor stared at him with caution, a glimpse of hope deep inside his eyes. “Don’t you have anything to say?”

Loki gazed back for some seconds, and then pressed their foreheads together, his eyes not leaving his. “No…” he whispered. “No. But…” he touched his lips and then his own with two slender fingers, and that was all the Thunderer needed.

He leant and brushed his lips against his brother’s, just in case he was wrong, he had misunderstood the signals. But he was not, because Loki trembled at the touch and looked for his lips again when he retired them, and he couldn’t have told the exact moment in which they started kissing, or who kissed who. As if it mattered.  
The kisses were really soft at first, like the wind caress, but it didn’t take long to them starting to be deeper, more passionate, and the gods ended looking for each other desperately, falling on the bed and rolling on it, shifting positions as their tongues danced together.

When Loki could find his mind again, he was lying on top of Thor, and suddenly noticed he was the one crying by then. He gave him a slight but honest smile, the first one of that kind since… a long time ago, and wiped his tears away just like he had done with his. “Hush, my oaf” he whispered against his lips, his fingers drawing patterns on his chest. “I am here.”

Thor stared at him, a wide smile in his lips, and he rested a hand on his brother’s cheek, a warm feeling in his chest as he leant to his touch with a pleased gesture. "You’ve came back.”

**Author's Note:**

> I might do another chapter, with lemon (+18). All passion, and fluff, and all that, you know.  
> I just... wanted to post this sooner, I don't know why. Oh, well. We'll see what happens.


End file.
